


it's more than the summer breeze

by jennycaakes



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Summer, Summer Camp
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-02 14:10:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11511036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: It's Miller's third summer at Camp Arkadia, the small summer camp tucked way up in the mountains, and his crush on Monty that grows bigger every week isn't helping him out much as a counselor. But the crush persists, and the campers come, and the summer goes on.





	1. Week 0

**Author's Note:**

> summer camp love is so in tents!

Miller first came to accept the fact that he had a crush on Monty Green one Friday night as they were cleaning the Pool Johns.

Yep. The bathrooms.

To be fair, he’d definitely had a crush on Monty before that. It was Miller’s third year as a counselor at Camp Arkadia, Monty’s second, and it took him like two weeks into the year last summer to realize he was totally fucked. But by then Monty had started up some summer fling with Harper, something egged on by all of the campers ever who insisted Mr. Monty and Miss Harper were married, and Miller wasn’t good at flings anyway.

So. Sure.

But then Miller came back for his third year and Monty for his second only this time, he and Harper weren’t dating anymore. Which--didn’t do anything for Miller, really, because as far as he knew Monty was insanely straight and Miller was still pretty fucking gay as it was.

“When’s the last time you cleaned the Pool Johns?” Monty asked that day, smiling so widely his dimples were out, and Miller realized--again--that he was screwed.

“I don’t clean the Pool Johns,” Miller answered. Not as a third year. That was first year work.

“Great!” Monty grabbed the marker that was taped up by the To Clean list and scribbled in _Monty and Nate_ before turning back to him. “Always a first time for everything.”

The Pool Johns were, depending on who you asked, either the best job to have on a Friday night or the most disgusting. It was the Friday before the first full week of camp and they’d just finished training, a full ten days of learning how to _be_ a counselor, how to act with common sense and talk to children as though they were children and foster their growth and development, and they had to clean the facilities before campers arrived on Sunday afternoon. When Miller agreed to be a counselor three years ago he hadn’t realized that meant he’d double as a cleaning crew, but after doing it a few times he didn’t mind.

The Pool Johns, though. He’d never had to clean those. Mostly it was just cleaning cabins. A standard sweep of the floor and scrub down of the mattresses and disinfecting of the bathrooms before mopping. Simple enough. But staff meeting wouldn’t start until Kane declared everything clean enough, and the first weekend off didn’t start until that happened, and the Pool Johns were still on the list.

Miller trekked after Monty, casting a glance out toward the sinking sun, knowing there was no way they’d be off before the night fell, and swallowed his sigh. _Time with Monty is time with Monty_ , he thought. _Even if that means cleaning the fucking bathrooms_.

“I think it’s the best job at camp,” Monty said as they walked down the concrete stairs by the pool. “You get to flood the bathrooms. It’s great.”

“It’s disgusting.”

“You’re boring,” Monty called over his shoulder, but there was a grin on his face. Miller wasn’t sure if he was joking or if he was just so happy that they were so close to staff meeting. To finding out their first assignments for the summer.

It was camp tradition, finding out their assignments for the next week on Friday night before the campers arrived. You’d find out your co-counselor, your program, your cabin, your break schedule. It was different every week. And with the summer beginning, Miller was more than ready. To be honest, he was especially ready for the campers to arrive. He loved staff training and getting to know everyone who worked on the mountain for the summer, but he was really here for the kids. He loved listening as camp filled with laugher. He loved the idea that he could make a difference for someone the way his counselors had made a difference for him when he was a kid. He might’ve come off as a bit scowly and detached, but fuck it, Miller cared _a lot_.

He just wished he didn’t care enough to actually have to clean the bathroom.

“So we’ll grab the mats out from the showers,” Monty said, lowering himself to a step so he could untie his shoes. “And then flood the bathrooms, and then sanitize literally everything.”

“Sorry,” Miller said with a frown. “Are you going to be barefoot in there?”

“Um, yes.” Monty gave him a look. “Have you never actually cleaned the Pool Johns before?”

“Fuck no, Monty.”

Monty’s face lit up. “Nate!” Monty laughed. “That’s insane. This is your third summer!”

“It’s not insane,” he muttered, lowering himself to the ground to remove his shoes. Because if he was going to clean the bathrooms, he might as well go all in. “It’s impressive. I’ve made it this long without doing it.”

Monty laughed again, shaking his head and setting his shoes aside. “You’re absolutely ridiculous,” he said. Once he got into the first bathroom he raised his voice, the acoustics of the small room echoing loud enough that Miller could hear him from where he sat taking off his shoes. “They’re not even going to be that bad,” Monty called. “The only people who used them this week was us. Campers are way grosser than we are.”

That much was true.

“It’s not like I’m going to abandon you,” Miller told him once Monty was back outside, two large green shower mats in his hands. “I’m already here.”

“I’m not convincing you to stay,” Monty said, dropping the mats on the ground with a _thack_. “I’m convincing you that this is the most fun you will ever have cleaning something at camp.”

“That’s a mighty large task.” Miller pushed himself to his feet. “You really think you can do it?”

“I’m sure as hell going to try,” Monty answered.

The thing was, it didn’t take that long. They took all of the mats out of the bathrooms, minimally gross because of reasons stated earlier, before dragging the hose all the way to the back of the boys bathroom and literally just flooding the bathroom. The summer air was hot and the water from the hose was cool and it was fun to watch Monty hold his thumb over the spout and create a freaking water cannon with incredible aim. It was more fun when Monty put on his cleaning playlist and started singing along. More fun when they created a competition to see who could sweep out the most water. More fun when Monty started splashing Miller with the water, the grin on his face mischievous to convince Miller that Monty was a Slytherin in hiding.

“Me!” Monty shouted, affronted, as Miller snatched the hose from him with a grin of his own. “A Slytherin? Nathan Miller, I’m not sure if I should be offended or honored!”

Miller rolled his eyes, spraying the water in Monty’s direction. “Neither because you’re definitely still a Ravenclaw.”

“Oh, definitely,” Monty answered with a grin. “Ready for the other bathroom?”

To see another smile like that on Monty’s face? “Definitely.”


	2. Week 1

Miller’s first co-counselor for the summer was Harper.

It wasn’t that Miller didn’t _like_ Harper. She was pretty cool. Got in her own head sometimes and got super distracted with like, flirting with other counselors, but generally good at her job. In fact she and Miller had a pretty good friendship before she totally dove headfirst into her fling with Monty last summer. It was just--that. She had a fling with Monty. And Miller was bad at letting things go.

It didn’t help, either, that Monty was _always_ around their group. Monty’s co for the first week of the summer was Monroe, another counselor who generally went by her last name, thus making it _super_ weird to hear “Miss Zoe” shouted across the camp like it was to hear “Mr. Nate”, and the two groups were in the same program, and Harper was back to flirting.

Miller knew how camp relationships worked. He’d been in one before, anyway.

“You’re just mad you’re not _good_ at them,” Bellamy had said one evening in the staff lounge after Miller vented his frustrations. “You can’t do flings, Miller. You want long term shit.”

“We’re not all capable of making out with people and not developing feelings,” Miller muttered back. Two summers ago, Miller’s first summer, he’d had a fling with another counselor named Bryan who had stopped coming to camp. Miller wanted it to carry on after the summer ended, Bryan didn’t. That was that. “They’re just--fucking going to start dating again anyways,” Miller carried on tiredly. “And then they’ll break up again because literally nothing has changed and they’re still the same people. And--he’s like, not even into guys anyway. So I don’t know why I’m making it my fucking business.”

“Because you _like_ him,” Raven supplied from the other side of the couch. It was just the three of them in there, safe to talk, and Miller was tired. Most other counselors had already gone to sleep but their curfew wasn’t for another fifteen minutes and Miller needed to rant. “Just because Harper’s into flirting or whatever doesn’t mean Monty’s feeling it.”

“And who says he’s not into guys?” Bellamy encouraged. “Everyone at camp is like, at least a little gay.”

“Yeah!” Raven agreed. “It’s like a prerequisite to work here.”

“He might be into guys.”

“It’s--whatever.” Miller huffed. Just because Bellamy recently discovered he liked making out with dudes and Raven had seriously dated a girl her last year of school didn’t mean _everyone_ was a little gay. “I’m being stupid.”

“Yeah,” Raven agreed. “But like--it’s still valid.”

* * *

The next morning Miller found himself barely awake. He had no idea how it was only the first week of camp and he was already so tired. It’s not like his kids were exhausting him. They could be a bit loud at some moments and had trouble paying attention during reflection activities, but at least they passed out the second the lights were out.

It had been a pretty standard week one. The new counselors were fumbling but learning, taking each new challenge with grace. Miller found himself slipping back into counselor mode as though he’d never left it behind. But still, he was tired. He knew he needed to drink more water than he was and maybe go to sleep a bit earlier instead of taking his full night break until 11:30, so at least he was aware of it.

They were leaving the campfire smile, the zone where they would sing songs after every meal and wait for announcements, when he heard his name.

“Mr. Nate!” Miller froze, tightening the straps of his backpack before turning to Monty, finding him beaming way too brightly for a morning that was already so warm. “Hey. What time are you guys heading down Alpha Stretch?”

“Not sure,” Miller admitted. It was Wednesday, which meant all of the groups would be hiking down Alpha Stretch to get to another area of camp fondly nicknamed Agro Zone for the fact that it used to house an actual working farm, where campers would spread out their sleeping bags in the open field there for the night to sleep. Typically groups left after dinner, but the span of time in which groups needed to get moving was pretty wide. “Why?”

“My group has some slow walkers,” Monty told him. “Your group has some fast walkers. I figured if we combined then it would even them out.”

Miller arched an eyebrow. “You want to hike together?” he asked.

“Yeah!”

Miller nodded. Great. Another excuse for Harper to flirt. But Miller was weak, and “Sure,” escaped him before he could think about it.

Monty was beaming again, and that was worth it.

* * *

Once Miller’s campers found out that they were hiking with the other group, they were insufferable.

“It’s because he likes Miss Zoe,” one boy said as he started wrapping up his sleeping bag for the trip. “We have _eyes,_  Mr. Nate. You can’t fool us!”

Miller was already packed, sitting on his now empty bunk as his campers shuffled around to get ready. He’d learned early on that there was no point in arguing with campers. They believed what they believed. Even saying, very clearly, _no I am not in love with that person_ , didn’t mean a thing.

“That’s not true,” another boy argued. “Mr. Monty came up to Mr. Nate to ask us to hike together. I saw!” He turned to Miller. “I bet you like Miss Raven.”

“She’s the prettiest,” someone else agreed.

“Whoa, whoa,” Miller murmured. He didn’t want to _indulge_ them. “Enough, guys.”

“My bet’s still on Miss Zoe,” the first said.

“Why not Miss Harper?” another asked.

“They’re like, related! They work together!”

“We _all_ work together,” Miller pointed out.

There was a soft knock on the door that split the cabin in half and soon Bellamy was poking his head in. Every cabin had two sides, two different groups on each side but all the same gender. Bellamy was his current cabin mate, his group getting ready for the hike as well.

“Everything okay in here?” he asked, eyebrows high. They must've been louder than Miller realized.

“We’re just trying to figure out who Mr. Nate’s in love with,” one boy answered matter-of-factly.

Bellamy laughed. “Oh yeah?” He looked to Miller, seated on his bet with a smirk on his face. “Who are the contestants?”

“Don’t encourage them,” Miller muttered.

“Miss Zoe and Miss Harper and Miss Raven,” the first boy said.

“My money’s on Miss Clarke,” Bellamy chimed, a wicked smile on his face. Which like, was totally unfair. Because Bellamy and Clarke were already dating--stupid fucking power couple--and Bellamy _knew_ that Miller was both gay and also super head over heels for Monty. “She’s all in charge and stuff.”

“Oh, yeah!” the boys laughed. “Miss Clarke!”

“You’re the worst,” Miller groaned as Bellamy winked, darting back into his side of the cabin with a laugh.

Miller’s campers went on debating. He wondered how Kane would feel if Miller came out to his campers.

* * *

Harper and Monroe wanted to lead the front of the hike, so Monty and Miller were stuck in the back with the med packs. Miller didn’t mind. Miller really, really didn’t mind.

“How’s your group?” Monty asked once the kids nearest them were caught up in their own conversation. Having spent the past few days together during meals and pool time, they meshed well enough that no one had to entertain them on the walk. “They seem pretty great.”

“They are,” Miller admitted. “They’re funny, too. One of them has this rock that he carries around that he named Howie.”

“Howie?” Monty asked.

“Short for How You Wander,” Miller told him, and the laugh that bubbled out of Monty made Miller’s chest swim. “I wouldn’t say they’re like, superstars or whatever,” he said. “But they make me laugh.”

“How You Wander,” Monty said slowly, shaking his head. “Wow.”

“Tell me about it.” They were quiet, focusing on breathing for a while instead of talking because they were at a pretty steep downward point. “What about you?” Miller finally got to ask. “How’s your group?”

“Oh, I love them,” Monty said. But he always loved his kids. Not that Miller frequently didn’t like his own kids, but Monty’s would storm all week and he’d still gush with love for them. “Two of them came as friends from home but they’ve been slowly integrating themselves to be with the rest of everyone else. They completed the 7 Foot Wall in like, fifteen minutes.”

“Impressive.”

“I know!”

Miller ducked his head, hiding his smile. Miller loved camp. He really did. But Monty _shone_ with it. In everything he did, every activity and every challenge course and every hike and cook out and sleep out and interaction with a kid, he was shining. Monty was in his element at Camp Arkadia and Miller was way into it.

They talked about this and that and the other as they hiked. Music tastes for a bit, favorite movies for another. When Miller ran out of water, Monty offered to share. Their kids trekked merrily on in front of them.

“It’s been a good start to the summer,” Monty said as they neared the end. They’d reached a gated part of the trail, signaling that there was only about another fifteen minutes left. “A great way to ease into it. But like--God, I’m ready for the weekend.”

Miller laughed. “Me too,” he admitted.

He wanted to go to Indra’s, the small diner down the road. He wanted to sleep in until at least 9am. He wanted to call his dad and tell him all about the week. But most importantly--Pride was this weekend. And Miller fucking loved Pride.

“Are you going into town?” Monty asked, eyes darting toward their campers ahead to see if they were listening. It wasn’t really smiled upon to talk about weekend plans in front of campers. And while Camp Arkadia openly encouraged everyone of everything, sexuality and gender and race and religion and anyone else, counselors were often told to keep their personal lives to themselves. If they _wanted_ to share they were free too, and most did with the older campers, but this group was still pretty young. Asking if he was going into town--Monty wanted to know if Miller was going to Pride. “You went last year, right?”

“Every year since I was 16,” Miller said with a nod. “Me and Bellamy are going.”

“Together?”

“Ha. Good one.”

Monty grinned. “I’m excited,” he said. “I didn’t get to go last year with everyone because I had to get my physical and had to drive home for it.”

That wasn’t surprising to hear. Most people on staff went to Pride to support those who were openly out like Miller and Monroe and Clarke. Monty was an incredibly supportive human. That didn’t make Miller blink twice.

“It’s a lot of fun,” Miller said.

“Oh--I mean, yeah,” Monty agreed. “I went with my boyfriend two years ago and we had a blast. But going with staff will probably be just as fun.”

If Miller hadn’t been looking at the ground to avoid the rocks that jutted upwards, he probably would’ve tripped without grace. Thankfully he caught himself. “Boyfriend?” he rasped. “I thought--” he cut himself off before he could say anything else, before he could make a fucking _fool_ out of himself, and Monty turned to look at him with eyebrows arched. “Didn’t you and Harper…?”

“Bisexual,” Monty answered easily, a soft smile on his face.

Miller kept trying to swallow and found it harder and harder to do. “Right. Right.” He coughed to clear his throat, trying to recover from this new and important information. “Yeah, Pride’s great.”

Monty’s smile grew. “Could I maybe go with you and Bellamy? I imagine Clarke’ll be in that car too.”

“Yeah, she will. That’d be cool.”

“I think Jasper’s coming,” Monty carried on, clearly not noticing that Miller was failing to process anything that was happening and having a small internal freakout. If he was a shitty counselor he’d be digging around for his phone immediately to text Bellamy. But self control won out and he kept his eyes on the trail. “But it’s not really Jasper’s thing, you know? He’s straight. Like mega. Which is fine! And I love that he still wants to come and support, because Pride is great for that. But I want to _celebrate_.”

“Celebrate how?” Miller asked. “Like--face paint and flag and all that?”

“All that,” Monty answered, still beaming. “Is that too much?”

Miller shook his head. He was so fucking ready for the weekend. “Definitely not too much,” he answered.

* * *

 **Miller  
** Update - Monty's bi

 **Bellamy  
** Oh shit really

 **Miller  
** Why is that an oh shit

 **Bellamy  
** Because you're actually going to make out now

 **Miller  
** Lmao I hate you

 **Bellamy  
** How like, pumped are you

 **Miller  
** I almost face planted while walking Alpha

 **Bellamy  
** Sounds about right

* * *

The rest of the week went on without much incident. Campers kept trying to figure out who Miller was into while Miller zoned out, watching Monty from across the way, fighting off his smile at the way Monty would shake his shaggy hair out of his face while playing a game or dramatically huff at something his camper’s were saying before breaking into a grin.

“You’re so screwed,” Clarke said the afternoon of that Friday. Parents were coming soon and the weekend was hours away and Miller was more than ready for it. “I watched you volunteer for Fort Building today and you _hate_ Fort Building.”

“I don’t hate it,” Miller lied.

“Monty was the other counselor,” Clarke carried on carelessly. They’d been in the same Staff-in-Training group a few years ago and had been going to camp together for years, so their friendship was easy. There was definitely some push and pull, but they had similar styles when it came to addressing feelings. Ignore them. It was a miracle she and Bellamy had gotten together. “Bellamy’s hinted,” she added. “But never confirmed. You're just grossly obvious.”

“Surprised Raven hasn’t told you,” Miller admitted.

Clarke scoffed. “Raven knows? Before me? Rude.”

“She was there when I needed to vent to Bellamy,” Miller said, waving his hand. “You were asleep. Or something. Whatever.”

“Whatever,” Clarke echoed. They were a few steps away from campers, from listening ears, so it felt safe enough to talk. “I hope it works out,” Clarke told him. “You and Monty.”

Miller swallowed. _Me and Monty_ , he thought. He hoped it worked out, too.

* * *

Friday night at staff meeting Miller found himself pinned between Jasper and Raven, Monty across the pavilion with that stupid dimpled smile on his face as they waited to find out their next assignments. Miller was ready. For the weekend, for the next week, for moving forward.

Without much of celebration, it was announced that Miller’s was on ex-staff the upcoming week week, extraneous staff, meaning he doesn’t have a group that he has to stay with. Ex-staff had it’s benefits, like sleeping in an extra fifteen minutes and getting to go to night break every night, but he knew he was going to miss having kids.

“You’ll have to do everything,” Clarke told him as they wrapped up the meeting. He wasn’t the only person on ex-staff, Murphy and Roma would be there too, but they weren’t certified in certain things. “High ropes and archery,” Clarke elaborated.

Miller nodded. “I figured.” He liked running various activities at camp. It made him feel important. It also got him out of doing manual labor, like moving gravel up and down the mountain from one place to another. “That’s fine.”

Clarke shifted uneasily. “You’re a good counselor,” she said.

His eyebrows crawled up his forehead. “Thank you?”

“I don’t want you to think that us not giving you a group this week means you’re not a good counselor,” she said. Miller found himself ducking his head, having fought off that exact, sinking feeling the moment his name had been called. There was always that stigma that followed people around when they didn’t get groups. Like they sucked. “But you’re going to have a packed summer,” Clarke told him. “So we want you to rest now while you can.”

“You know something I don’t?” Miller joked.

“Yeah, idiot. I make the assignments.” She nudged him before her eyes caught Bellamy’s from across the way. “Just--hang out with Monty’s group all week.” A teasing smile found her face. “He’s got a junior high group that’s going to want to do everything.”

Miller shook his head at her.

* * *

The weekend was warm and welcoming. It wasn’t too hot or too cloudy and squished in the backseat of Bellamy’s tiny ass car between Raven and Monty as the two of them rambled on about how excited they were for Pride made his chest feel full of flowers ready to bloom. Clarke was in the passenger seat sending meaningful looks back at him through the mirror and Miller kept his face neutral the whole time.

He was proud of who he was, and he loved Pride, but that didn’t make him very vocal. The only reason he had on a meaningful shirt was because Bellamy had purchased numerous online for everyone to wear.

Clarke’s said: Both? Both. Both is good. Bellamy’s was: Plays for Any Team. Even Raven had gotten one that said: All of the Above. Monty had his own from a few years ago with just the flag on it, though he was seriously upset his didn’t have a pun of sorts. Miller’s was simple, rainbow print that read: Resist.

They were ready for the day.

The city closest to the camp they worked at was super family friendly, and instead of a march it was more of fair where there were various booths all around. They traveled in a pack, placing themselves on an identity spectrum and waiting in line for ice cream with free rainbow sprinkles before they found the facepaint.

“You should get some,” Monty said after he’d finished. The bi-pride flag on his cheek got squinty when he smiled and Miller was so fucking into this boy he thought he was going to lose his mind.

“I don’t know,” Miller said. “Not really my thing.”

“Aw, c’mon Nate.”

“Yeah,” Bellamy teased. “C’mon Nate.”

Miller rolled his eyes and dropped into the seat without fighting it. To be honest, he’d probably do anything to make Monty’s smile last a little bit longer. The one that was on his face after Miller stood up with a rainbow flag on his own cheek was so wide and wholesome Miller felt like yellow happiness had been injected into his bloodstream.

They met up with everyone else from camp after that, Jasper hugging Monty for like, an absurdly long time in an act of support, but it was nice. Everyone took photos at a photo booth station and more than once Miller found Monty by his side, close enough that their fingers were brushing as they walked side by side, close enough that Miller had to scold himself at the thought of reaching out and tangling their fingers together.

“You ready for next week?” Monty asked that evening once they were all Pride-d out and heading off for dinner somewhere. “Ex-staff, right?”

“Yeah.” Miller shrugged. “I come to camp to work with kids, I guess. Just wish I had a group.”

“Hang out with me all week,” Monty said, basically echoing what Clarke had joked about earlier. It was dangerous, this request of Monty’s. Miller liked the guy. So much already. Seeing him with kids, goofing around and nerding out about whatever, it’d make it worse. And after today, after being around him in this open and accepting community and _knowing_ now that Monty was into guys too, it was just a collection of dangerous things. “Be that like, mysterious counselor all my kids ask about and fall in love with.”

“Ah, yes,” Miller said with a nod. “That’s really how I want to spend my time. Making your campers love me more than they love you.”

Monty laughed. “I don’t think it would be that hard, Nate. You’re easy to love.”

Warmth crept into Miller’s face and he ducked his head, failing to fight off his smile. Maybe he didn’t have the assignment he wanted next week, but he definitely now knew it would be a good week regardless.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> side note: I actually have a camper who named a rock How You Wander (Howye for short, but pronounced Howie), and like, camp is the best always okay bye


	3. Week 2

Monty’s group name for week two was Girl’s Night, even though it was a co-ed group, because the boys voted for it. It made Miller laugh to watch Monty call out _“Girl’s Night over here!”_ while six pre-teen boys eagerly lined up behind him while the girls shook their heads.

While Miller had been told by Monty that he should hang out with their group, he wasn’t prepared for how serious Monty had been. Any open seat at their table in the dining hall, Monty saved for him. Any time they passed him on the street, the entire group was shouting their greetings. It made Miller feel warm inside that Monty was trying so hard to keep Miller included, as that mysterious enigma that his campers could just love.

And boy did they love him.

Tuesday morning Miller had to lead archery for Monty’s group and Octavia, Monty’s co-counselor for the week, was taking her day break, so it was just Monty and Miller with the kids. They listened eagerly at the rules and oohed and ahhed while Miller demonstrated how to shoot the target, hitting pretty damn close to the bullseye.

(If Monty hadn’t been there Miller would’ve gotten a bullseye with ease. Fucking pressure of impressing someone.)

“Mr. Nate,” one of the boys asked. “How do you do _everything_?”

“I’ve been here for forever,” Miller answered. “You just learn.”

The truth was he’d had special trainings in like, most of the things. He could set up the zipline (which he’d be leading on Thursday for their group) and the rock climbing (which he’d done yesterday and involved a lot of unnecessary touching on Monty's part, not that Miller was focused on that or anything) and he could also lifeguard (which he was doing every pool time). Over the years the opportunities had presented themselves and he took them. The first year was lifeguarding, then rocks and ropes, and now archery.

“You’re just so _good_ ,” one of the girls commented. Monty, sitting beside her on the bench, smirked. Some of Monty’s campers loved Miller maybe a little too much. “Could you get a bullseye?”

“I mean I have before,” he said.

The girl grinned and Monty shook his head. “You’re just. So. Good,” Monty echoed, pausing at all the right moments, only teasing him a bit.

Miller tried not to roll his eyes but couldn’t really help himself. “Who wants to go first?” he asked.

The kids lined up by the firing line while Miller instructed them on their aim and their stance, Monty entertaining the kids who were still waiting to shoot. They made bracelets off to the side, tying strings into patterns, while everyone else did archery, and then they would rotate.

Once everyone had gone through twice Monty still hadn’t shot, and his kids had noticed. “You should!” someone encouraged. “You’re probably great, Mr. Monty!”

“I can promise you that I’m not,” Monty said.

“Please!” someone else asked.

Monty groaned dramatically before pushing himself from the bench. “Fine, fine.” His campers cheered and Miller laughed, gesturing toward the shooting range. “But seriously Nate,” Monty said, lowering his voice. “I suck.”

Despite the fact that Monty wasn’t trying to make an innuendo, Miller’s mind went that way anyway. He coughed to clear his throat and shrugged slightly. “Thought you were good at everything?” Miller asked.

“Most things,” Monty said, reaching for the bow. “Physical things? No. Watch.” Monty knocked his arrow and aimed, poorly, before firing the arrow. He missed the target completely. “See!”

Monty’s campers _lost_ it. They fell apart with laugher, draping themselves over one another at the poor skills of their counselor, and the sound of such joy made Miller laugh too.

“Your stance just isn’t great,” Miller said. “You can learn.”

“Then teach me!” Monty huffed. Miller hesitated. He’d taught campers how to aim. He’d move their arms into the position their arms needed to be and he’d stand behind them and help them aim. It was simple, really. But Monty was like, a full grown human. And also Monty, warm and cute and asking for help. “Or am I just doomed to fail forever?” Monty carried on, his arms extended.

“Help him!” his campers burst.

“He needs it!”

“C’mon, Mr. Nate!”

“Okay, okay,” Miller muttered, crossing the field to Monty’s side. The campers cheered again. Miller stood behind Monty, close but not close enough to touch. Not yet. “Straddle the firing line,” Miller said lowly.

Instead of the teasing that Miller expected, Monty did as he was told. “Okay.”

“Knock your arrow,” Miller said. Monty picked up his arrow and placed it on his bow. “Take aim.” Monty did so, and Miller stopped him. “No, you want your arms to be straight.”

“Difficult because of who I am as a person,” Monty quipped.

Miller laughed. “No. Like.” Miller hesitated again before stepping closer, readjusting his aim. There were other ways to do this, probably. But Monty stepped back into Miller’s grasp and leaned into him. “This,” Miller said, moving his arms. “You want your hips…” Miller trailed off, lowering his arms to hold Monty’s hips. “There.”

Monty swallowed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Miller exhaled.

“Fire it, Mr. Monty!” one kid shouted, and Monty breathed out a burst of air. “Go, go, go!”

“Whenever you’re ready,” Miller murmured, knowing he was just a touch closer to Monty’s ear than he needed to be. “Just let go.”

His wrist was turned the right way and after letting out a deep breath, Monty released his arrow. It sped through the air heading straight for the target. With a _thack_ it burrowed in, just a few inches off of the bullseye.

Monty reared back and Miller stepped away quickly, heat climbing into his face at how close he’d just been. “Oh my God,” Monty breathed. “Nate!”

His campers were cheering again and Monty turned to face him, absolutely _beaming_ , and Miller couldn’t wipe the smile off of his face even if he tried.

* * *

 **Miller  
** Asking for a friend - what happens when you’re totally fucking in love with another counselor

 **Raven** **  
** did you just say IN LOVE

 **Miller** **  
** Oh fuck off

 **Bellamy** **  
** Dude

 **Clarke** **  
** idea: you TELL them

 **Miller** **  
** Too out of character, can’t relate

 **Bellamy** **  
** The sooner you tell him the sooner you get to make out

 **Miller** **  
** Not if he doesn’t feel the same

 **Raven** **  
** summer camp love is so in tents

 **Raven** **  
** get it!!

 **Miller** **  
** Hate you

* * *

Okay, Miller probably wasn’t _in love_ with Monty. Camp definitely did things to people where they could easily and quickly learn about other people so they got to know each other faster, but Miller wasn’t a big fan of the concept of being in love with someone without the communication aspect.

Not that he and Monty didn’t talk, but like, he wasn’t nearly as vulnerable with Monty as he would be if they were like, together.

But God did he like him. Monty was exactly the type of person that Miller _could_ fall in love with. He’d known him for a few years now (a couple on staff, but also as campers before that) and maybe they weren’t always side by side like Monty was with Jasper, but that didn’t mean they weren’t friends. They were always learning new things about each other. And camp, it brought out both the best and worst in people. It’s just that Monty’s worst was more than tolerable. And Miller still liked him.

It’s what he was thinking about when Monty made it to the top of the zipline tower on Thursday morning.

“I hate heights,” Monty was murmuring to himself as he stationed himself on the platform. Miller was working up top, and to get there people had to climb up a telephone pole. They were secured in with a harness, of course, and it was completely safe, but it was still kind of sketchy. Once they were on the platform Miller would clip some things and hook some stuff and then send them down the zipline. “I hate heights. I hate heights.”

“Come here,” Miller said gently, reaching out to steady Monty on his feet. “If you hate heights why did you climb this?”

Monty hugged the pole as Miller secured him. “Wanted to see your face.”

Miller laughed but couldn’t deny the way his stomach swooped. “Okay Monty.” With a soft voice that Miller didn’t frequently use unless he knew people were afraid, he walked Monty through what he was doing, what mechanics were involved. Monty nodded, his eyebrows still furrowed together, while he listened. “Hey,” Miller said. “You’re safe. I’m not going to let you fall, okay?”

Monty’s face brightened a little at that. “I know,” he admitted. “I trust you, Nate.”

“Steady yourself,” Miller said. He needed to lean off of the platform to grab a rope, but he was hooked in and he trusted his gear. The second he returned, Monty was reaching for him, hands on Miller’s waist, his eyebrows furrowed again. “Hey. Monty.”

“I’m okay,” he rushed. “I’m okay, really.”

“The stuff is safe,” Miller responded.

“I know. Heights just--” Monty laughed, though it sounded choked. “This isn’t the high I’m used to, if you get what I’m saying.”

Miller grinned. “Yeah Monty. Got it.”

Monty looked at him for a moment, his face still brighter than a few moments ago, before he looked down over the edge of the platform. “You should smile more,” Monty said as he prepared himself to zipline. “You’ve got a nice smile.”

That made Miller smile, too. The top of that platform, that was something that made Miller vulnerable. Fifty feet above the air, the treetops barely above them, Miller felt lighter than air. That was why he said, “You make me smile.”

Monty laughed again but not in a mocking way. He laughed like he couldn’t believe it.

“You’re full of surprises,” Monty said as he sat. “Am I good to go?”

“You’re good to go,” Miller confirmed.

Monty winked before pushing himself off the edge, letting the zipline carry him away.

* * *

 **Raven  
** guess who has news

 **Clarke** **  
** is it you?

 **Raven** **  
** yes

 **Bellamy** **  
** Oh god what happened now

 **Raven** **  
** jasper and i are on the same day break right and he was telling me how monty has a thing for someone on staff

 **Miller** **  
** Welp

 **Raven** **  
** no you idiot i think it’s you

 **Miller** **  
** I mean it probably isn’t but okay

 **Miller** **  
** Thanks for keeping me in the loop I guess

 **Raven** **  
** ugh miller just wait!

* * *

Miller knew he didn’t have the right to be frustrated, but he was. Every time Harper would cross the room to talk to Monty, Miller found himself looking elsewhere and ignoring the way his stomach turned. Things happened all the time at camp. On and off again things. And Monty and Harper dated before and were still on good terms. Friendly, even. Flirty.

So if Monty had a thing for anyone on staff, it would’ve had to be her. She was the only person that made sense. Miller would just stuff his feelings back into his chest and pretend they weren’t there for awhile. He’d sit with other groups. He’d focus on the real reason he was here: the campers.

Instead of always taking the open seat at Monty’s table, Miller found himself squeezing into Raven’s table instead, or to sit with Jasper. He noticed Monty looking toward him with narrowed eyes, but Monty never let things linger. He’d always jump back into a conversation with his campers with ease. So obviously it wasn’t that debilitating.

When the final pool party happened of the week, Miller was in the tall lifeguard chair for the duration of it.

“If I was to drown,” Monty said before all of the kids jumped in. “Would you save me?”

“Sort of the entire job of a lifeguard,” Miller answered.

There wasn’t a laugh from Monty, and it was only after the fact did Miller realize his tone might’ve been a bit sharp. He turned to find Monty with the smallest frown on his face. “Are you mad at me?” Monty asked.

“What?”

“You stopped sitting with us at meals,” Monty said, “and you like--won’t even look at me.”

Miller tried to exhale a laugh, trying to play it off, but it was more of a guffaw. “Of course I’m not mad at you. Why would I be mad at you?”

“I don’t know,” Monty admitted. “It just feels like you’re mad at me.”

“Miller!” Clarke shouted from across the pool. “To your station!”

Miller turned back to Monty to say something else but he was already gone, off with his campers, being the great counselor that he was. With a groan Miller climbed up to his seat and blew the whistle to let the kids get in the pool. Despite the fact that he loved pool party, murmuring the lyrics to songs under his breath as the kids swam around and danced, he just couldn’t get into it today.

His eyes kept finding Monty, and Monty kept being near Harper, and Miller kept hating himself for the frustration inside of him. If he had a group at least he could be focused on them.

Not having a group made it hard for him to focus on the campers like he wanted. They weren’t _his._ They were just campers that he had vague attachments to.

He was ready for his next assignment.

* * *

“You look like a puppy that got kicked,” Bellamy said, lowering himself onto the seat beside Miller at the pavilion. Friday night had snuck up on them again, and because he was ex-staff Miller had spent most of the day cleaning with Roma and Murphy so they could get out at a decent hour. Staff meeting was just about to begin. “You okay?”

“It’s so stupid,” Miller muttered.

Bellamy looked across to the pavilion where Monty and Harper were seated next to each other again, both of them smiling. “It’s not stupid,” Bellamy said. “Monty’s great. He’s easy to like.” Bellamy lowered his voice, “And you wear your heart on your sleeve a lot more than you think.”

Miller dropped his face into his hands. “Yeah,” he rasped. He could scowl a lot and look generally disgruntled but he had a lot of emotions and cared about people so fucking much. “Whatever. How was your week?”

“It was okay,” Bellamy admitted. He worked with Raven and while they were great friends, they were pretty different leaders. It tended to lead to a lot of stress. “I’ve got some stuff going on at home…” Bellamy trailed off, shaking his head. “It’s fine. I’m okay.”

Miller frowned. “Want to talk about it?”

“Just school stuff. Money stuff.” With a sigh, Miller nodded. Bellamy always tended to have money stuff going on. “I know something, though,” Bellamy said.

“Yeah?”

“It’ll cheer you up,” Bellamy said.

Miller arched an eyebrow. “And how do you know what you’re about to tell me?” Miller asked.

“Clarke’s in charge and also my girlfriend,” Bellamy said pointedly. “She tells me things if I kiss her.”

“A great trade,” Miller noted.

“It is,” Bellamy agreed. “Ready?” he asked, and Miller nodded. “Wells is volunteering this week.”

Wells Jaha used to work at Camp Arkadia, but then an internship was offering way more money to work for them than camp was to be a counselor. He’d been in the same Staff-in-Training group as Miller and Clarke and was easily one of Miller’s best friend’s. And fuck, Miller missed him.

“Really?” Miller asked.

Bellamy grinned. “There’s the look I was waiting for.”

Miller shoved his friend. “He probably wanted it to be a surprise,” Miller pointed out, finding himself grinning as well. “Shit--is he PCing?”

Clarke was the main camp Program Coordinator. PC for short. But there were two separate programs next week and someone needed to lead the other one. Bellamy shrugged and it felt genuine. Clarke wasn’t one to actually tell people what their assignments were.

“It’s Senior High week,” Bellamy said, and Miller nodded.

Senior High was one of the best camps at Arkadia. It was when the older kids came. Camp was generally for kids between 6 and 15 but for Senior High, it was 15 to 17 year olds. They could have deeper conversations, they could stay up later and play crazy night games, they were the kids who loved coming to camp and it showed. Miller wanted to be a counselor for it desperately.

He’d been a Senior High camper when he was younger and loved the program more than others. They got their own t-shirts and they got to put on this giant talent show at the end of the week and it was so fucking fun. Miller was still young, though. Third years generally didn’t get it. Bellamy was practically a shoo-in as a fourth year staff member who was probably the best counselor on the mountain, but there were other options too.

Wells had been the PC in the past for other programs and had been a Senior High camper, so it would make sense to have him PC that program rather than the younger kids.

“Alright,” Kane said, calling them all back to attention. He’d just returned to the pavilion after checking to make sure all of the cabins were clean. As the director of camp, he wanted to make sure they were ready to function as a camp before having staff meeting. “Week two is over!”

Everyone cheered and even Miller felt something loosen inside of him. He didn’t mind being on ex-staff but he was ready for whatever was coming next. He wanted an assignment. It was why he was here, after all.

In the pavilion they went around, giving shout outs to the people who did extra well this week, and Miller was surprised to find a few people calling him out for various things. “I actually saw Miller smile this week,” Murphy joked, “so good work, man.” It was nice to hear that even when he wasn’t doing, like, important things, he was still affecting camp for the better.

When it was time for everyone to find out their assignments for the next week, everyone tunneled up. It was tradition at this point, two people joining hands and making a tunnel for people to run through. Kane would read out the assignment (“On day camp!”) before reading out the name (“We have a Mr. Jasper!”) before whoever it was that was called would run through the tunnel to the other end while everyone cheered. It was fun. It could be hard because you had to run through the tunnel no matter what your assignment was--even if you didn’t want it--but Miller enjoyed it anyway.

After they went through the day camp assignments they jumped straight into Senior High and Miller, despite knowing he wouldn’t get it, found his heart racing.

“Coordinating the program,” Kane announced, “We’ve got a Mr. Wells!”

 _Knew it_ , Miller thought with a grin, happy for his friend to have grown so much and excited for the chance to get to see him. Miller was tunneled up with Bellamy at this point, the both of them smiling with excitement.

“For Senior High A Boys,” Kane called out, “we’ve got a Mr. Bellamy!” Bellamy hooted and Clarke cheered from where she was standing down the line. To say Miller was happy for his friend was an understatement. Bellamy deserved all the good things ever, and with him on the program it was sure to be excellent. “For Senior High A Girls,” Kane called, ready to announce his co, “we’ve got Miss Luna!”

That was to be expected. Luna was an older staff member who had a personality sort of opposite Bellamy’s, a bit more calmer when he could get loud. They’d make a great team and Miller was excited for them.

But there was another group.

The Staff-in-Training group would be around with the Senior High program as well, so technically there were three groups, but Anya and Roan had been hired specifically as the SIT counselors. So they already knew their assignment.

“For Senior High B Boys,” Kane started up again, “we’ve got a Mr. Nate!”

Miller couldn’t move. Octavia, to the right of him, nudged him with a grin. “That was you, idiot!” she shouted over the cheering.

It had happened before, 3rd year counselors getting Senior High, but it was definitely rare. “Are you sure?” he rasped.

“Run!” she encouraged.

It took Miller a beat to find his footing and then he was running up to the front of the tunnel to run through it. Bellamy was waiting at the end with open arms and the pounding of his heart in his ears was so loud that he barely heard Kane call out Raven as his co for the week.

“Holy shit,” Miller said as Raven sprinted down the tunnel and threw herself at him. “Holy shit, Raven!”

“We’re gonna kick some Senior High ass!” she cheered. There was so much cheering. Miller couldn’t fucking believe it. No wonder Clarke wanted him on ex-staff the week before, so he could be fully charged for the week ahead.

The rest of the assignments were called but Miller barely heard them, still way too hype over the fact that he’d gotten this incredible assignment with one of his best friend’s while his other best friends would also be there. The program was going to be amazing.

“Told you you’re a good counselor,” Clarke said as she handed Miller his schedule.

Miller wasn’t sure he’d ever get over this feeling.

* * *

 **Monty  
** are you going to indras this morning? can i come?

 **Miller** **  
** I’m going with Raven and Wells yeah. We can pick you up. What cabin are you in?

 **Monty** **  
** wells!!!! yay i’m in cabin 3. don’t tell clarke i slept in the nurse’s cabin please

 **Miller** **  
** You feeling okay?

 **Monty** **  
** totally, but there’s air conditoning in there and no one snores if i sleep alone

 **Miller** **  
** Haha okay that’s valid. See you soon.

* * *

Indra’s was a diner at the bottom of the mountain where most of staff went on Saturday mornings for breakfast. It was pretty cheap food at a pretty good price, but you could only pay in cash, and the place was decked out with some pretty weird decorations. Indra, the chef, was a woman who knew how she wanted the place ran and was always shouting orders from behind the counter.

Miller slid into his seat beside Monty, overwhelmed with even more happiness now that Wells was here too. Bellamy and Clarke had driven to Bellamy’s last night because he needed to deal with some stuff at home, but they’d be back later tonight to hang out.

Their waiter, an insanely buff guy named Lincoln, looked a bit disappointed upon arriving. “No Blake’s today?” he asked.

Octavia had gone with Clarke and Bellamy, and Lincoln was always a little brighter when Octavia was at his table. “Not today,” Raven said. “Sorry Linc.”

“Ah, no worries. What can I get for you today?”

Monty had a _usual_ that Lincoln knew, same for Raven, but Miller was always getting something different and Wells hadn’t been around in a while for Lincoln to remember from previous years. While Lincoln ran back to put their order in, Monty let out a little sigh.

“What’s wrong?” Wells asked.

“What?”

“You totally sighed,” Raven pointed out.

Monty frowned. “Oh. Sorry. I miss you guys.”

Miller laughed. “What do you mean?” he asked.

“Like, pre-miss,” Monty said. He fiddled with his straw wrapper and kept his eyes on the table. “You’re all in the Senior High program this week. I’ll like, never see you.” His voice dropped a touch. “And Jasper and Harper are on day camp. I don’t know. It’ll be lonely.”

“You’ll have Clarke,” Raven pointed out, which was good, because Miller’s _happiness bubble_ popped at Monty mentioning Harper in the people he was going to miss. Miller could be a jealous person. He knew it was irrational. It still happened. “It’ll be fine, Monty. Who’s your co again?”

“Roma,” he said. “Which is great! Roma’s great. But yeah. I’ll miss you guys.”

“We have the same breaks,” Miller said without thinking. Because of course he’d already checked that and hated this sad tone of Monty’s voice.

Monty lit up. “We do?”

“Yeah.”

The smile that found Monty’s face had a more permant residence after that. “Okay. Cool. I can make that work.”

“Going to miss Miller’s face that much?” Raven joked. Unfairly. Because she was totally playing into Miller’s dumb crush.

“Don’t you?” Monty joked back. He nudged Miller then, his smile a tad softer, and Miller felt it in his chest. “If he’s not mad at me, that is.”

Raven barked out a laugh. “Miller’s mad at you?”

“ _No_ ,” Miller stressed. “I’m not mad at you,” he said, turning to face Monty. “I’ve just got. Stuff.”

“Stuff?” Monty echoed.

“Not you,” Miller said again. He didn’t very well want to have this conversation with Wells and Raven listening in. If Miller knew anything, it was that Raven and Clarke had probably already filled in Wells on the Miller Has A Hopeless Crush On Monty situation, and Wells was enjoying the camp drama that he had been missing out on. “Seriously, Monty. I mean that.”

Raven slurped loudly from her straw.

“What kind of stuff?” Wells asked. Miller narrowed his eyes and Wells ducked his head, fighting his smile, confirming the fact that Raven and Clarke had filled him in. “Just want to make sure you’re _okay_.”

“I’m fine,” Miller said. “Can we move on now?”

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Monty said, looking around the table.

“I thought we already established that you’d be missing Miller?” Raven asked.

Miller wanted to hide his face in his hands. “Oh my God,” he muttered. Wells chuckled fondly. Monty still looked confused, but didn’t argue the point. Raven looked proud of what she’d said.

No matter how often Miller saw Monty this week, he knew deep down it would be a good week for the both of them.


	4. Week 3

Miller probably should’ve slept on a real bed last night, but somehow Wells had convinced him to sleep on the floor of one of the lodge’s instead. It was sort of camp tradition, everyone crashing together in one of the lodge’s over the weekend, but Miller needed energy.

He woke up Sunday morning, a few hours before staff meeting, with a sore back. Someone had snored most of the night before meaning he didn’t get a lot of sleep. Wells was still beside him, Clarke on the other side of Wells, the two whispering back and forth about something trying to keep their voices down.

“Morning!” Clarke greeted. Miller grunted in response, lifting his pillow to cover his face. “Ready for your campers to come today?” she asked. Miller grunted again, but yeah, he was excited. He got to hang out with Bellamy and Raven and Wells all week while participating in his favorite program. It was probably going to be a great week.

“Weekends are too short,” Miller finally muttered back. If they got off early enough on Friday there were a few hours there, but the chunk of their free time was Saturday. That was mostly it. “I need another like, four hours.”

“If you valued sleep,” Wells said, sitting up and looking out across the room, “you wouldn’t work at a summer camp.”

Miller grabbed his phone to check his messages. “Thanks, Jaha.”

 **Monty** **  
** good luck today!! i’m excited for you. it’s gonna be rad

Miller smiled, rolling to see if Monty was still in the lodge, but all of his stuff was gone meaning he must’ve woken up earlier and cleared out. His cabin was on the other side of the mountain this week so he most likely wanted to get there early to shower and set up his things.

They hadn’t really gotten to talk much yesterday, so even though Miller had said--again--that he wasn’t mad at Monty about anything, he wasn’t sure if Monty believed him or not. The text lead Miller to believe he wasn’t, but Monty could be outwardly wonderful while still feeling like someone was mad at him.

 **Miller** **  
** Hey thanks, means a lot

* * *

As expected, his campers were fucking awesome.

By the time most kids reached the Senior High program, they’d been coming to camp long enough to love it without restriction. They dove headfirst into songs and games and by the end of the night on Sunday, they had already established that the moment anyone threatened anyone else, they would chant _murder camp_ with so much enthusiasm, Miller couldn’t help but shake his head.

Monday, Miller kept trying to catch Monty’s eyes, but Monty would always look away the second they made eye contact. It was a little thing and he really tried to not let it get to him, but it happened so frequently Miller couldn’t stop thinking about it.

In a free moment he mentioned it to Raven who simply shrugged. “When Monty’s with his kids, he’s with his kids. You know that.” And Miller did, so he didn’t push.

It was Wednesday morning when Miller got in first real conversation with Monty of the week. It was brief. Miller had to run back and grab his backpack because while he took campers to morning meds he’d left it in the pavilion and no one picked it up for him. So he was there while everyone else was moving to one of the lodge’s for games. Monty was grabbing something too, it seemed, because his group was off at the basketball court just in view.

“Hey!” Monty burst. “There you are!”

Miller grabbed his backpack and slung it over his shoulder. “Here I am,” he said with a nod, trying to fight his immediate smile. He missed Monty. He missed Monty’s enthusiasm and his heart and his voice.

“You weren’t--uh,” Monty paused, shrugging. “Are you in a hurry?”

“Not really. What’s up?”

“You weren’t at night break last night,” Monty said, his voice softer than Miller expected. That was true. He’d thought about taking his night break and decided that sleep was way more important than stuffing his face full of pretzels in the staff lounge. They’d been staying up late to play a night game (in which Bellamy carried around a water gun to spray anyone who thought about making out behind the bushes) and it ended way later than expected. But night break--that really would’ve been Miller’s only time to see Monty. Because they were on different programs, their day breaks didn’t line up for the week. “I was hoping to see you.”

Miller’s stomach twisted. “Sorry,” he answered. “We didn’t finish our night game until like ten,” he admitted, “and by the time everyone was settled down in the cabin I only would’ve been there for like, half an hour anyway.”

Monty shrugged again. “No I get it.” Monty fiddled with the box in his hand--chalk, Miller realized, probably for a reflection activity--and looked at the ground. “You, uh, checked your mailbox lately?” he asked.

The staff lounge had a string tied from one wall to the other, and hanging from it was a paper bag with each counselor’s name on it. It was encouraged throughout the summer that people write notes to one another, little reminders that they were a family of sorts, positivity to keep them going on the rough days.

Miller shook his head. “I don’t really get a lot of notes,” he said.

Monty frowned immediately. “Really?”

“It’s the scowling,” Miller said, gesturing to his face. “People don’t like me.”

That made Monty laugh, his frown melting away with ease replaced by something warm and bright. “Sure, Nate. If you say so.” Monty was looking at him then and his gaze was soft. It was fucking entrancing. God, Miller’s missed him. Even the short moments like this, Monty’s been vital to keeping Miller going this summer. “I wrote you a note,” Monty finally said. “Like, Sunday night, actually.”

“So it’s just been hanging out in my bag alone?”

“Shut up,” Monty said, laughing again. “You deserve like, all of the notes ever.” Monty glanced over at the basketball court, finding Roma staring at them with furrowed eyebrows, before he slowly took a backwards step in her direction. “Just--let me know when you read it, I guess.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“And we can chat,” Monty said. Miller blinked a few times, unsure what it was Monty really meant, before Monty started walking away. “See you later,” he called, heading back for the court.

Miller had day break later, but Raven could handle the kids for an extra three minutes.

Once Monty was distracted Miller darted for the staff lounge, just a short walk from the pavilion, relieved to find it empty. He raced to his mailbox, a paper bag with his name that he’d decorated with various photos from an old National Geographic magazine at the beginning of the year with the rest of staff, before reaching in. To be fair, there were other notes there too. One from Jasper, another from Monroe. But Monty’s was there too.

_Nate-- it’s Sunday night (and I’m not supposed to be in the SL, shh) but you’re already freaking glowing. Senior high is lucky as heck to have you in their program - I know you wanted it so bad, and you really deserve it. You’re a great counselor and no one ever gives you enough recognition for that.  Anyway I really want to talk to you this week if possible? Kind of about last week, kind of not. Just some stuff I have to say. If not that’s okay too! But yeah. Let me know. --Monty_

Miller read the note twice before folding it up and shoving it into his backpack to read again later. He wasn’t sure what to make of it. His first thought was _Monty wrote me a note_ which lead to like, weird, delirious happiness. His next thought was _Monty wants to talk about something from last week_. He wasn’t sure how to feel.

* * *

“Maybe he still thinks you’re mad at him,” Bellamy said. They were all sprawled out in the lodge, giving their campers a time to just relax after a long morning of archery and service projects around camp, and a few of them had been pretending to plan things while actually just talking. “You said he thought he was mad at you, right?”

“But I’m _not_.”

“You’re just bad at feelings,” Raven said in agreement.

Miller groaned, but she was right. Miller was so fucking bad at feelings. “That’ll be funny,” Bellamy said with a grin, stretching out on his stomach. “Monty wants to talk to you about why you’re angry and you’re angry because you like him. I’d pay to hear that conversation.”

Miller scrubbed at his face. He needed to think of something to say when Monty asked what was going on with him. Miller could maybe say something about home stuff? But everyone knows that Miller has a great relationship with his dad, so it’s not like they’ll be fighting. Or maybe he could mention some sort of fake drama with Murphy? Murphy used to be awful, but he’s gotten better ever since Emori started working on staff too, so that might not be believable.

“It’ll be fine,” Miller said.

In true camp fashion, it wasn’t fine. Miller continued to fret. It didn’t help when day camp got off early and made it back in time to eat dinner in the dining hall instead of having ex-staff prepare boxed dinners for them, and Jasper _and_ Harper both sat at Monty’s table. The smile that lit up Monty’s face as he chatted with them _and_ his campers was too much and Miller couldn’t stop staring.

The catching-of-eyes-and-immediately-looking-away thing still was happening too. More so than before. Enough that Miller was considering faking smiles just to see Monty give one in return.

It also didn’t help when one of Miller’s campers nudged him, pointed across the room, and said, “Didn’t Mr. Monty and Miss Harper date last year?” Miller clenched his teeth and shrugged, trying to remain as neutral as possible.

* * *

“I can’t go to night break,” Miller said the afternoon in which he had night break again. Raven arched an eyebrow at him before looking out across the room. It had been a miserable morning, buggy and muggy and generally horrible, so Bellamy had set up a game called Bunko in the lodge. It felt like a camp day. Kids were rolling dice and cheering and the room was electric with joy, but Miller was stressed. “I can’t do it, Raven.”

“You’re being a wuss.”

“What am I supposed to _say_?” Miller muttered. The kids were too distracted with their game that the two of them could talk. Raven didn’t find it private enough though and grabbed him by his collar before marching him out onto the porch. “Fucking, ugh.” Miller pushed her off with a frown.

“Tell him how you feel,” she said.

“Ha! That's rich coming from _you_ ,” Miller said. “Miss I Have The Biggest Fucking Heart Eyes For Wells Jaha.”

“Hey, you’re not me,” Raven said bitterly. “Wells is leaving. It’s pointless. Monty’s _here_.”

“It's not pointless," Miller countered. "And if Monty doesn’t feel the same then I’m fucking stuck with him,” Miller pointed out. And it was more than that, more than some stupid summer crush. When Miller fell for people, he fucking crashed and burned. It was all or nothing. It wouldn’t just be something to get over in a few days, it would ache. Miller groaned. “And his note doesn’t fucking help me understand anything.”

“How do you turn off your shitty language in front of kids? It’s like a switch for you. You say fuck _so much_.”

“Mm-hm.”

“What’d the note actually say?” she asked. It wasn’t as though Miller passed it to her to read. He wasn’t in middle school anymore. “You just said Monty wanted to talk.”

Miller shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Liar!”

Miller huffed. “That he has stuff he has to say. I don’t--” cheering from children just on the other side of the door cut him off. Miller closed his eyes slowly. “I don’t know. It could be anything.”

“Exactly,” Raven said. “It could be anything. You might be making a big deal out of nothing. And if you don’t go to night break then you’ll never know.”

Miller raked his hands over his face. Feelings were complicated enough. Feelings at camp were even worse.

* * *

Miller strode into the staff lounge that night trying his hardest not to make an entrance, but most people turned when they heard the door creaking anyway. He’d tried to wait as long as possible but fuck it, Raven and Bellamy had been right. He just needed to get it over with. Miller tipped his head at the masses, not surprised to see Wells and Clarke sequestered in one corner. It did make his stomach turn a little when he saw Monty sitting in between Jasper and Harper--basically a screenshot of last summer. The three of them were great friends, even with Monty and Harper dating.

Monty let out a long breath when Miller entered, almost as though he was deflating, and Miller forced himself to swallow. He’d figure out what to say to Monty. It would be fine. There wouldn’t have to be any feelings involved. In fact, Miller could change the subject to like--Harper, or something. It would help remind Miller that Monty didn’t want anything to do with him. Not like that.

Miller managed a smile before heading to his snack bin. If he was going to have some Weird Talk Time with Monty, he at least needed sugar in his system to comfort him.

It wasn’t as though staff members didn’t go off on their own and talk all the time. They really did. At camp they did IT Time, which stood for Interpersonal Time (Time), where people would disappear and talk about literally anything. High school memories or deepest secrets or anything to get to know the other person better. But Monty didn’t ask for IT Time, he asked to talk, which was different somehow. ITing was just sort of general. To talk, that had some weight to it.

A few moments later Monty was beside him in the snack area. “Hey,” he said quietly. “Did you--”

“Got your note,” Miller cut him off. “Yeah.”

Monty nodded. “Okay. Cool. Great.” He glanced out across the cabin before turning back to Miller. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming to break tonight.”

“You said you wanted to talk,” Miller said.

“Yeah, but--”

“Do you still want to?” he asked. Monty’s lips parted hesitantly. “We don’t have to. It’s kind of late.”

“No--I, yeah.” Monty closed his eyes tightly, eyebrows furrowed, before looking back at Miller. “I’d like to. If you still want to.”

Again, Miller managed a smile. “I’m here,” he said. “Aren’t I?”

That made Monty smile too. Miller wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to Monty’s smile. It made him feel like everything in the world was right where it was supposed to be.

“We could go to Cabin 7?” Monty suggested.

Some of the cabins at camp, because they were on a mountain, had a top and a bottom due to the way the hills worked. Cabin 6, for example, where their staff lounge was, was like that. Downstairs, campers snoozed. Upstairs counselors took their breaks. A few other cabins had tops that were just large empty rooms. Some even had air conditioning. Cabin 7 was one of them.

“Sounds good,” Miller said. He popped an Oreo into his mouth. “Lead the way.”

Monty nodded and Miller closed his bin and then, without saying anything to anyone else, they were on their way to the cabin next door. The sounds of their break room faded as they walked toward the cabin, but neither of them were talking.

“What’s up?” Miller finally asked once they’d arrived.

“So, like,” Monty paced in front of him while Miller sat on the step of the porch instead of entering the cabin, squinting into the dark to see him. “We’re only here for a few weeks. Right?” Miller nodded as Monty paced. “Which means it’s important to say what you’ve got to say because if you don’t then the summer ends and you just have to pretend like you didn’t have things to say. Following?”

“I think so,” Miller said. “But Monty, I’m not--I’m not mad at you, you know that, right?”

“What? No--you already--no, I know that,” he said, shaking his head as though Miller had derailed his line of thinking. “Of course I know that, Nate. You already said you weren’t.”

Something inside of Miller shifted, and he wasn’t sure if it made him feel better or worse. If Monty knew he wasn’t mad at him, then what the fuck did Monty want to talk to him about?

“Okay…” Miller said slowly, dragging out the word.

Monty paused in his pacing. “You’re super hard to read,” Monty told him. Miller blinked. “So just--I’m just going to be open and honest with you, okay? Because good communication is important.”

All Miller could do was nod.

Monty paused. He swallowed. “I like you,” Monty said. There was a small laugh from him before he went on. “I don’t know if I’m just not being obvious enough about liking guys--liking _you_ \--or camp life is just a lot or what. But I like you, Nate. And I don’t want the summer to end without me--vocalizing that, I guess, and maybe having the time to do something about it.”

Miller thought back to the note that Monty had written him, thought back to the way he was always encouraging Miller to hang out with their group, thought back to the small shiver down Monty’s back when Miller helped him with his aim at archery.

“You like me,” Miller echoed.

“You’re a great counselor,” Monty said, starting up his pacing again. “I don’t know how you’re insanely serious all the time and still so freaking caring. You really care about the kids here and making their week great. Your heart is--maybe you try to hide it or whatever, but you’ve got the biggest heart, Nate.”

“You like me,” Miller said again, his voice softer than before, trying to make sense of those three small words and how much they meant.

“Maybe I just have a thing for great counselors,” Monty rambled on. “But seeing you lead like, rock climbing is just so hot to me? And--wow, I’m talking way too much now,” Monty said, shaking his head. “That was too much. Oh God.”

“No, Monty--”

“I just think you’re great,” Monty said, no longer pacing, sort of turned away from Miller. “I think you’re really great and I needed to tell you how great I think you are. Just in case you feel the same.”

Miller pushed himself to his feet and Monty turned back to face him, ready to say something else, when Miller cupped Monty’s face between his hands and kissed him. Monty must’ve been holding a lot of tension inside of him because he melted easily, winding his arms around Miller’s waist and sighing into the kiss with so much relief that Miller couldn’t help the grin that found him.

Monty found this a great time to pull back. “Words!” Monty burst. He was laughing, his eyes bright, but he said it again. “I need words, Nate.”

“I feel the same. I like you,” he rasped, the need to kiss Monty again more important than any stupid fucking words that he could muster up. “So much. So fucking much.”

Monty was grinning now too. “Yeah?”

Miller cupped Monty’s cheeks in his hands. “ _Yes_ ,” he gushed.

Apparently that was enough words for Monty because then he was kissing Miller again with more enthusiasm than Miller had been expecting. It was as though this week hadn’t drained either of them, like they weren’t two camp counselors who were entirely too exhausted but rather two men who just wanted to be together.

The wind rustled through the trees and a twig snapped and they parted at once. Kane was fine with counselor/counselor things, didn’t care who made out with who, but campers seeing Monty and Miller together wouldn’t have been good. They paused, still wound around one another, but it was just the wind. Monty laughed, tucking himself against Miller.

“Maybe we shouldn’t make out where anyone could see,” Monty murmured, the smile still evident in his voice.

“Top of 7 is free,” Miller pointed out. He ran his hand up Monty’s spine along his shirt and Monty shivered before pulling back. He hooked his fingers into the hem of Miller’s shirt and pulled him backwards, toward Cabin 7 with mischievous eyes.

There were probably campers sleeping in the bottom half of the cabin so they toed off of their shoes quietly before heading toward one of the couches pushed against the wall. Miller sank down first and then Monty beside him, so close and warm that it was dizzying. Miller reached to cup Monty’s cheek and tipped his chin up to make it an easy kiss. The two of them left the lights off which had been a good call, because if anyone happened to walk by they’d have a clear view of Monty and Miller tangled together on the couch.

“Thought you were still into Harper,” Miller murmured against Monty’s mouth.

Monty laughed between kisses, and all of this was way too much. “No way.” He leaned into Miller’s hand and even in the dark, the look on his face was bright--pure, unabashed joy. “Just friends. We ended on a good note.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Monty laughed. “Have you?”

“Been driving me fucking insane,” Miller admitted. Monty was still smiling, and even with his words Miller couldn’t stop smiling either. “Stop looking at me like that,” Miller said, again with a laugh. “This is weird.”

“This is weird?” Monty echoed. He leaned back and rested against the couch, his body tilted in Miller’s direction. “Why?”

“You’re too fond.”

“Too fond!” Monty laughed and Miller ducked his head. “You’re cute.” Miller shook his head and Monty reached out, poking him. “Why’s this weird?”

Miller tried to figure out how to put it into words to make it sound more eloquent, but all of this was blowing his mind anyway so whatever. “Because this is why I was so out of it last week,” Miller said. “Because you thinking I’m great is insane to me because you’re like--the fucking best, and--” Monty laughed, cutting him off, before swinging his hand up to cover his mouth.

“Sorry! Sorry. I’m just overwhelmed by you.”

Miller sunk backwards on the couch fighting another smile. He wasn’t so good at this, the talking bits. All he knew was that he liked Monty and Monty liked him and that was all that mattered.

* * *

 **Miller  
** So

 **Bellamy** **  
**??

 **Raven** **  
** so what

 **Clarke** **  
** y’all totally made out right

 **Miller** **  
** Monty and I made out

 **Clarke** **  
** KNEW IT

 **Bellamy** **  
** Wait for real?

 **Miller** **  
** Yeah

 **Clarke** **  
** Monty just came back into 6 like half an hour after they walked out together so he could grab his backpack and he was all flushed and smiley and Jasper grinned and I totally KNEW IT

 **Raven** **  
** stop is this a joke

 **Clarke** **  
** NOPE

 **Miller** **  
** Nope

 **Raven** **  
** NICE

 **Clarke** **  
** Wells is impressed btw

 **Bellamy** **  
** Wait and then Monty walked out again? Are you texting us while you wait for him to grab his backpack?!

 **Miller** **  
** I like to keep the masses informed

 **Bellamy** **  
** Dude

 **Miller** **  
** Gotta go

 **Bellamy** **  
** DUDE

* * *

Miller slipped his phone back into his pocket as Monty strode toward him. Miller had previously had some good weeks at camp before, this was his third summer after all, but this--Senior High _and_ getting to make out with Monty? Definitely took the cake.

They walked side by side back to Monty’s cabin down the way, fingers brushing, Miller fighting off the urge to tangle their fingers together and squeeze. It had been so much easier than Miller expected it would ever be, whatever it was that was happening between them. They melted into an easy conversation about their groups and their weeks and then the talking--it was just _easy_. Miller didn’t have that deep fear in his chest about being open and vulnerable and Monty listened in earnest.

“What are you doing this weekend?” Monty asked, his voice dropped, as they neared Monty’s cabin. Miller was being spontaneous and stupid and offered to walk Monty back to his cabin, like he couldn’t make it a few hundred yards on his own. “Are you going to D.C.?”

Raven had a family friend named Sinclair who had ties to Camp Arkadia, was actually the reason that Raven heard about the place and went there when she was younger. Sinclair lived in the city and hosted the staff once a summer so they could lounge around. He’d usually cook out for them and then they’d all crash on the floor before returning to camp the next day.

“Yeah,” Miller said. “I am. Are you?”

“I am,” Monty echoed. He slowed his stroll. They were outside of Monty’s cabin now, time to say goodnight, and neither of them moved. “Can I ride with you?”

“Yeah.”

Monty smiled. “Okay. Cool.” _Goodnight_ , Miller thought, but couldn’t make himself say it. “See you tomorrow?” Monty asked.

“Yeah,” Miller said again. “Tomorrow.”

But then Monty was there in front of him, pressing himself on his toes so his mouth could meet Miller’s. This was why he’d walked him back to his cabin, for this soft moment between the two of them, for a soft kiss. Miller went to pull away, something quick was all he’d really wanted, when Monty latched his fingers into Miller’s shirt and refused to let him get too far.

And then--fuck it, they were making out again. It’s not like Monty’s campers were going to open the door and peek out, so Miller moved Monty against the wall and swallowed Monty’s hum of approval.

“I have to go inside,” Monty finally whispered. But he just kept kissing Miller, pressing himself upwards, gripping Miller’s shirt and keeping him pinned against him. “It’s like--way past curfew.” There were more kisses after that, warm and wet, and every time Miller tried pulling away Monty was yanking him closer again.

“You should go inside,” Miller agreed.

“Mmf.” The noise was made against Miller’s mouth and Miller laughed, pulling back a touch. “I’ve wanted to do this for weeks now,” Monty said. “I just--sleeping sounds so _boring_ compared to this.”

“Your group is insane,” Miller reminded him, reminding him of their earlier conversation, and the smile Monty returned was full of warmth. Miller brushed his thumb lightly over Monty’s chin. “You need sleep, baby.”

Monty’s eyes darkened before he grabbed Miller again, kissing him with such force Miller couldn’t help but groan. Monty’s hands were heavy on Miller’s shoulders after that and he, very dramatically, moved to the side. “I have to sleep,” Monty rasped.

Miller nodded. His insides felt like right after the dying coals of a fire had gotten that one breath that would bring the flames back to life. “Me too,” he admitted.

“Leave before I kiss you again,” Monty said firmly.

Miller laughed, hurrying away without another word.

* * *

Friday dismissal came way faster than Miller was prepared for. He sat with his kids and shook his head at their antics and every time his thoughts strayed back to last night he found himself grinning.

“You’re in a weird mood, Mr. Nate,” one of his campers pointed out, sounding suspicious. “You’re _smiling_.”

“Hey, I can smile,” he murmured back.

“Like, you _can_ ,” the camper agreed. “And--don’t get me wrong! You’re amazing! You just don’t smile."

Raven appeared then, a grin of her own on her face, and rested her hand on Miller’s shoulder. “Mr. Nate must’ve just gotten a really good night of sleep,” she said, squeezing once. “Isn’t that right?”

“Mostly I’m happy to get rid of you all,” Miller corrected to his camper, resulting in a scoff and a laugh so loud that Miller was back to grinning again.

In truth, it was hard to say goodbye to them. They meshed well together and sang so loud they lost their voices and Miller loved them, easily. But it happened. They were gone, and Miller was cleaning cabins, and the loss of his group was filled with _Monty_. He was being a stupid dopey idiot and he knew it, but he couldn’t stop no matter how hard he tried.

When he sat down for staff meeting in the pavilion after he and Raven debriefed their “fucking amazing week” as Raven called it, it didn’t take long for Monty to take the seat next to him.

“Are you totally crushed that your campers are gone?” Monty asked.

“Devastated,” Miller said

Monty smiled.

* * *

Miller and Monty would be in the same program the next week, both of them in a program called _Super Sleepless_ where they’d stay up later and later every night until they eventually got to watch the sunrise. It was insanely fun and super wacky and Miller was expecting, again, another great week. He’d be working with Octavia which was always weird as she was Bellamy’s sister, but they had an easy enough friendship that it would probably be fine.

That night, everyone crashed in the lodge again. Bellamy was to Miller’s left, Monty to his right. They hadn’t really talked about things since Thursday night, but Monty being there was enough to quiet Miller’s nerves. It helped that the second the lights were out, Monty reached out for Miller’s hand. Miller brushed his thumb over Monty’s knuckles and smiled at the gentle sigh on Monty’s end.

In the morning, they were still holding hands. The two Snapchats he had (one from Clarke, the other from Wells) were both photos of it from a distance, to which Miller responded with an eyeroll and a screenshot. He woke Monty up without waking up the rest of the room. Raven and Bellamy and Clarke and Wells had already left, seeing as Raven wanted to be there first as it was her family friend’s house they were going to, but Miller and Monty had plans to drive together.

Monty woke easily, and his half-asleep smile with his crazy bed-head made Miller’s heart flip in his chest.

“Does Jasper need a ride?” Miller asked softly.

Monty shook his head, still smiling. “Nah, he’s not coming. Just us.”

They packed up their things quietly and headed for Miller’s car, tossing their stuff in the trunk before hitting the road. Miller was worried that it wouldn’t be like Thursday night, that they wouldn’t find that flow. But even still mostly asleep, Monty jumped right into conversation.

They talked more in depth about their week than they had Thursday night. “You don’t understand,” Miller said at one point as he was switching lanes after telling most of his story. “They deadass started making sacrifices to Johnny Appleseed and praying for rain. Bellamy led an entire song time about the sun in a counter-response so it wouldn’t start fucking pouring. They _really_ didn't want to hike.”

Monty laughed then and Miller looked over, finding him with his hand covering his mouth. “I really like it when you talk,” Monty managed.

Miller rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. “I talk enough.”

“Not like this,” Monty said. “You’re real cute, Nate.”

“Oh, fuck, shut up. I’m driving.”

Monty laughed again and it was better than any song on the radio.

* * *

The weekend in D.C. wasn’t anything exciting. In fact, it fucking downpoured, so their plan to go to the zoo sort of fell through. Instead Miller got distracted by the way Monty sprawled out across Bellamy’s lap on the couch while the two of them laughed at memes on their phone. No one weirdly asked what was going on between him and Monty, and no one followed them when they stepped out on the screened-in porch to listen to the rain together. Later, Miller napped. He woke up to the smell of dinner. He, again, thought about how happy he really was.

That night they all watched Moana, crowded in Sinclair’s tiny basement that didn’t have any air conditioning so the room was humid, and Miller nearly fell asleep in the middle of it. But near the end Monty turned to him and leaned upwards, pressing a soft kiss to Miller’s chin.

“You okay?” Miller asked gently.

Monty nodded, smiling on his own. From the angle they were sitting, Miller couldn’t see Bellamy’s face, but he was sure his friend was smiling too. “Yeah,” Monty answered. Miller wanted time to stop so this moment could stretch on, bone exhausted from the week and in a room full of people he loved. “I really am.”


End file.
